


Line of Fire

by WithYouTillTheEndOfTheShield



Series: Stay Frosty [2]
Category: Alien Series, Aliens (1986)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-28
Updated: 2015-03-28
Packaged: 2018-03-20 02:45:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3633783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WithYouTillTheEndOfTheShield/pseuds/WithYouTillTheEndOfTheShield
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She's an analyst. He's a marine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Line of Fire

She's an analyst, won't be in the line of fire, Apone says when she walks into the mess hall on the _Sulaco_ , her hair a mess and her gaze still hazy from Hypersleep. Hicks tracks her silently with his eyes as the stranger takes her food and cutlery, looking for somewhere to sit. For a second she looks like she's going to join Vasquez, approach a woman in search of some common ground and a seat at the table, but at the last minute she stops, scanning the table for a more friendly face to make conversation with.

Her eyes flicker over Hicks' face, and just at the last moment he looks across to Apone, pretends he wasn't staring. But he was.

She finds a space a few seats down from him, near Bishop, who offers her a mug of coffee, which she declines. He can recognise the effects of a first Hypersleep from where he's sat. She's pale and drawn, with dark circles under her eyes, and when she picks up her fork she can't seem to bring herself to eat.

He turns back to his own breakfast, tuning back in to the conversation Hudson and Frost are having. Something about that tribal group they rescued on their last operation, and how the Chief's daughter was 'probably the most fuckable thing I've seen in months, man'. He almost wishes he'd kept looking at the analyst.

 

She steers clear of the Marines for most of the rest of the operation, he thinks they make her nervous. She sits alone most of the time, doesn't talk to anyone unless it's absolutely necessary. Stays in the APC for the whole operation, while the rest of the Marines are on the ground. He isn't really sure what her job actually is. Neither is anyone else, but the general consensus is that she doesn't belong on the _Sulaco_.

He spots her talking to Apone and the Commanding Officer, Briggs when they're back on the ship. Something about having to write a report, and asking for a list of names. Drake's beside him, carrying a crate of pulse rifles, and his lip curls. "Fucking admin." He spits, turning his back on the conversation. Hicks follows suit, his interest in her severely diminished.

 

When Hicks wakes up from Hypersleep on board the _Sulaco_ a few weeks later he sees her in the next chamber. She's blinking the sleep away, sitting up and rubbing her face. He feels like shit - they all do - but for most of them the grogginess and headaches will pass. Judging by how bad she looked last time, this is still one of her first long haul Hypersleeps, and she'll be feeling bad for a day or so.

"Get up, sweethearts!" Apone is already up, a cigar in his mouth. He passes by Hicks's bed. "Up, Corporal."

Hicks swings his legs out of bed and stands, watching as she struggles with the wiring that connects her to her chamber. Giving up with trying to sort it out in a civilised way, she yanks the wires painfully, and he winces. He's done that more than once before, and it's never a good idea. Sure enough, a spot of blood appears in the crook of her elbow and the side of her neck, and she's rubbing the reddening areas, hissing in pain. Apone is still yelling at the other Marines, so Hicks leaves her to get out of bed on her own, moving off to the locker room. While he's pulling on his pants she shuffles across the room, somehow managing to side step Vasquez's outstretched leg, which she'd moved in an attempt to trip the younger woman. She makes it to her own locker unhindered, and Vasquez goes back to pulling on her boots, scowling.

He takes a little longer than normal to get dressed, deliberately waiting until they're the only two in the room. She's about to leave when he calls out. "Hey."

She turns, surprised that someone on board is addressing her. "Me?"

"Yeah, you." He crosses the room to her, extending his hand. "Take these. It'll take the edge off."

She looks down to see the two pills he's holding out to her. "What are they?"

"I promise they aren't roofies." He jokes, and a tiny smile appears on her face. "They're herbal. Probably won't do anything for your headache, but the nausea should fade."

After a few seconds of deliberation, she takes them from him, and he watches as she tips her head back a little to take them dry, swallowing hard to force them down. After a couple of seconds of wincing she looks back to him. "Thanks."

"No problem. If you need any more, just ask." He doesn't quite know where this sudden show of kindness has come from, but from the grateful smile that appears on her face, it's clear she's glad about it. She tells him her name, and he tells her his. "Hicks. I'm Hicks."

"Hicks, get your ass out here man." He hears Hudson yell from down the corridor outside. "Apone wants to talk to us about that chick they sent from Admin."

"Gee, wonder who that is." She murmurs from beside him, and he chuckles.

"I'll see you around."

 

By the time they get into breakfast she still isn't there, and he's surprised. Bishop's sat on his own at the table, reading some ancient book and spooning powdered scrambled eggs into his mouth. Hicks takes his seat beside Bishop, and Hudson drops into the space on the other side of him. As more of the Marines filter in, he spots her in the back, trying not to draw attention to herself. She meets his gaze when she gets in, and shoots him the tinest of smiles, which he returns.

She starts to integrate herself a little more after that, hanging around and occasionally helping unload weapons and machinery before operations, sitting with Hicks and Frost and Apone at mealtimes and every so often laughing at a joke. She rarely throws in one of her own though, prefers to just be in the background of the group. He thinks she just likes being around a group of people, feeling included.

Hudson still tries to hit on her at every opportunity. When he's strapping her in place in the APC or helping her unload materials on the ship he'll make some sort of comment. She resists his advances every time, politely but coldly answering him, or just ignoring him.

They're on their way to a small colony group to retrieve a few escaped prisoners when she surprises them. Hudson's flirting with her again, loudly this time, showing off one of the new guns they'd brought with them.

"Capable of holding 150 rounds, this baby fires semi automatic, 60 rounds a second. You lock on something, that bastard ain't gettin' away. So don't you worry, sweetheart, with me and my team of total badasses," he motions around to the other marines, all of whom are taking a break to watch. Hicks is working on inventory with Drake, and they've both stopped, interested in the only form of entertainment on the ship. "you'll be com-ple-tly safe. Especially when we're all packing these!"

She remains quiet while he shows her the scope and chamber, her eyes following his movements quickly. When he tests the weapon out, boasting that he can hit the can of soda Apone left on the side from their distance of fifty feet, she steps back to let him try. He misses, and a dark red blush spreads across his face as he fumbles with the gun. The others laugh, Hicks loudest of all.

"It _is_ an impressive weapon, Private." She concludes, holding out her hands. "Do you mind if I?"

He hands her the gun, and she holds it up, aiming for the can. A couple of the marines murmur, and Drake wolf whistles beside Hicks. He watches her, a smirk on his lips, waiting for her to drop it and tell Hudson it's too heavy. What she does next takes him aback. There's one short, controlled burst of fire and then the can explodes.

Everyone is stunned into silence. Beside Hicks, Drake murmurs "ho-ly shit." She lowers the gun, licks her lips, clears her throat, and hands Hudson his gun back.

"Thanks." She murmurs, pressing the weapon into his hands. He nearly drops it, he's so surprised. Hicks can't wipe the smile off his face when she steps away from Hudson and awkwardly makes her way through the room, avoiding the gazes of the shocked Marines, all of whom are looking at her with a new found respect.

Apone isn't as impressed. "What the fuck is going on?" He yells when he comes back to find the contents of his can sprayed out across the floor of the cargo bay. He looks around for the culprit, and spots Hudson with the gun in his hand. "Hudson you _motherfucker_!"

 

She's in the locker room when he next sees her, tying her hair back and sorting through a folder she's stashed in the back of her locker. "That was a nice party trick back there."

She turns to face him, folder still in hand. She shoots him that shy smile he's become more accustomed to recently, and shrugs. "Even military analysts have basic weapons training."

"Remind me never to go up against you in a dark ally." He jokes, moving closer. The loading bay is finished in surprisingly good time, and as a result, the next fourteen hours are for the Marines to do what they want. Drake's already hunting for his stash of moonshine. Hudson's arranging a card game. Apone's getting some target practice in.

He doesn't know how it happens, or why, but he kisses her. It's tentative, hesitant, he just presses his lips to hers, but when she doesn't protest he pushes his tongue out just a little, parting her lips. His hands go to her hips and he backs her up, pressing her against the locker behind them. Her hands trail up his shirt, inching their way towards his neck, where she loops her arms, pulling him closer to her. His hands are sliding under her shirt when they hear voices in the corridor outside, Hudson and Frost arguing about a deck of cards, and they break apart.

Hicks goes back to his locker, and she snatches up the file she dropped when he kissed her. Hudson and Frost come in just as she starts flicking through it, an neither of them make a comment. Neither suspect anything, and they leave the two alone pretty quickly. Hicks is about to say something, ask her if she wants to find somewhere more private, when Hudson pokes his head around the door. "You in for a card game? And you?" He directs the second question to her, still seeming a little embarrassed after the gun incident earlier.

She glanced to Hicks quickly before nodding. "Sure thing."

Hudson disappears, and Hicks licks his lips. "Some other time?"

She smiles. "Some other time."

 

'Some other time' happens a few days later, when they're all back on the ship after the operation. He's still pumped from the thrill of the chase. The team took out a group of privateers on a United Americas military base, wiped every single one of the fuckers out, and Hicks notably took down the most. He's still flushed with adrenaline, oddly hyped, and when he talks his words all slur into one exited mess. It's weird to see him like this, and when he appears in her room late that night she's surprised to see him.

"Hicks?"

He steps into the room, ignoring her when she says he should get Dietrich to take a look at the cut on his forehead, and instead coming to a halt just in front of her. There's no mistaking the look in his eye, and as soon as she's on her feet he's all over her, his hands are cupping her face and touching her waist and grabbing her ass, and when he pushes her against the far wall he swears he hears her whimper. "Hicks."

"I know." He murmurs, struggling with her pants. He can hear people moving in the corridor outside, can hear Hudson singing from their room down the hall, can hear Apone telling him to shut the fuck up. Everyone around the ship is moving, talking, congratulating each other. No one has any idea what they're doing.

It's quick, it's quiet, and afterwards they manage to crawl into her bunk, and they just lie there in the darkness for a while, neither of them talking. There's not a lot they can say.

 

It happens again, over and over. They're drunk, they're high on adrenaline, they're bored, they're lonely. Working these rotations, with long flights and shitty hours leaves little time for proper relationships, and they're both just glad for the company. Her room is separate from the bunk house the Marines have to share, a fact Hicks couldn't be more happy about. Not that it would have stopped them if she had to share with the Marines - Vasquez and Drake can be heard fucking most nights, and one time after a long night of drinking they could all hear Dietrich clamber into Weirzbowski's bed. That was an unpleasant night for everyone.

Her private room is a luxury, and one they take full advantage of as much as possible. He likes having someone to curl up next to at night, someone to completely lose himself in. She's different to everything else on the _Sulaco_. She's not made for killing, not battle hardened like the rest of them. There's something oddly comforting about her, and about the fact that she doesn't wake up to drills and orders and routines like the rest of them.

 

They're  working a job on a colony planet. That morning he'd woken up in her bed, with her tangled in the sheets beside him and her hair in his face. He'd smiled and rolled over, hugging her closer to him and enjoying the peace for just a few minutes, before he'd forced himself to get out of bed and join the others. Now he's knee deep in rebel soldiers, trying to sort this shitty pseudo civil war out, while instructions are being shouted down the headset to him.

"Hudson, keep you god-damn head down!" He yells, ducking behind a piece of debris. He hears Apone to his left, and then as a bomb explodes another message comes across the headset. He can't hear it properly, the only word he makes out is 'trouble'.

"Repeat." Apone orders, reloading.

"We've got trouble, Apone. Incoming rebel soldiers. I repeat, APC is compromised."

Hick swears his heart stops, just for a second, because she's _in there_ and she's in trouble, and he can't get to her. He looks across to Apone, who's already ordering a retreat, ordering Vasquez and Drake to take the lead. He's supposed to cover the rear, take down any stragglers, but he breaks formation, runs to the APC. Vasquez is covering him, working on her sharp instinct, and thank God she is, because there are four soldiers around the APC. Two are going for the door, but Drake shoots them down. Or Vasquez does. Or he does, and he doesn't even realise it. He's working on blind panic, bursting through the door and praying that he's in time.

There are two of them inside the APC. He shoots them both, watching their bodies drop. Briggs is to the side, blood pooling from the bullet hole in his chest. She's sprawled out on the floor near the front of the APC, a gun in one hand. He drops to his knees, rolling her over to look at her. Her eyes are closed and she looks, to all intents and purposes, like she's asleep. But he can feel the blood leaking from the back of her head as he tries to support it, and he knows she's dead.

Apone bursts in, and he starts yelling something about breaking formation, but he stops when he sees the interior of the APC. His voice goes soft, for the first time in all the years Hicks has known him, and then he's standing beside him, one hand on the younger Marine's shoulder. Hicks looks up at him, and for a few minutes, neither of them says a word. Then he moves to the other end of the APC, and Hicks hears him call for immediate extraction.

She's an analyst, Apone said, won't be in the line of fire.

 


End file.
